Gui Fu was a native of Xianglin. His skin color was black, but at times it appeared white, yellow, or red; the people of Nanhai saw him and revered him. He often consumed cassia and kui, mixing them with turtle brains; he made thousands of pills from ten catties of cassia, a sight seen for generations. Now in the south of Jingzhou there are still cassia pills available.

Gui Fu’s use of cassia as the foundation of his cultivation connects him directly to Fan Li, who also “enjoyed wearing cinnamon and drinking water” as part of his Taoist practice. Both figures demonstrate that in the Lie Xian Zhuan, the path to immortality often runs through the careful, sustained use of natural substances — a tradition documented in the Illustrated Canon of Herbal Medicine, one of the foundational texts of Chinese medicinal knowledge.

Like Anqi Xiansheng, who sold medicine along the Eastern Sea coast for a thousand years, Gui Fu’s practice was not hidden in a mountain retreat but lived out in plain sight — his pills still available in Jingzhou long after his time, his presence felt across generations like that of Youbozi, who quietly protected the Su family across centuries.

How great was Gui Fu, standing upright in distant regions! The divine kui nourished internally, and the red cassia pacified externally. With a gentle and pleasant face, generation after generation shared his brilliance. His teachings spread to the southeast, and for generations no one failed to follow them.

This eulogy frames Gui Fu not merely as a personal cultivator but as a transmitter of the Dao — his influence radiating outward across the southeast for generations. This generational reach echoes the longevity of Peng Zu, whose centuries of cultivation became a model for all who sought to extend life through inner harmony. In the Lie Xian Zhuan, the greatest immortals are those whose Dao does not die with them — it spreads, takes root, and continues to nourish long after they have gone.